


The Ornament

by eris223



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Christmas Magic, Clexmas 2020, Clexmas20, F/F, It's pretty fluffy, and plot-lite, clarke has a kiddo, day 6: rockin' around the christmas tree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28198356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eris223/pseuds/eris223
Summary: “The secrets I hid in the night, reaching out through space and light,Be they far or be they near, bring to me the ones I hold dear…”It was just a silly spell her grandmother used to say before hanging her favorite ornament on the tree. It wasn’t really magic...Lexa Woods believes in love, the kind of love that just feels warm and comfortable and right. And one Christmas, she just so happens to run straight into it.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 73
Kudos: 343





	1. Chapter 1

“Sorry I’m late.”

Lexa startled as the voice of her cousin interrupted her monotonous monologue of yuletide woes.

Anya tossed her thick coat over the back of the barstool with a flourish and settled into her seat. “Traffic was-” Anya took the glass Lexa slid towards her and dragged a long, appreciative sip. “Fine.” She shrugged. “I’m just terrible with time management.”

“I’m aware,” Lexa sighed. She stared down at the drink in her hand, mesmerized by the way the slightly viscous cocktail clung to the sides of the glass.

Anya nudged her shoulder. “I didn’t expect dramatic fanfare, but I gotta say, this welcome is way less warm than I imagined.”

Lexa chuckled to herself. Anya was right. She hadn’t seen her cousin since the funeral. She’d never spent a Christmas without their Grams, and it was actually incredibly kind of Anya to come down early just so Lexa wouldn’t be alone. So Lexa mustered up a small dose of enthusiasm.

“Sorry,” Lexa murmured, turning in her seat to wrap her arms around Anya’s warm frame. “The holidays, you know?”

Anya rubbed a couple soothing circles on her back and squeezed with unusual softness. “I know.”

They held each other for a few seconds longer, and when the display of familial affection got too much for the both of them, Lexa retreated with a soft smile.

“So-” Lexa sipped her drink. “How’s the wife?”

“Good,” Anya nodded. “Jolly. Her enthusiasm for the holidays is annoyingly cute.”

“Y’all are adorable,” Lexa genuinely laughed.

“Ugh-” Anya rolled her eyes. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t get all nice and sappy just cuz it’s December, and I sorta called you out for not giving me a hug when I walked in.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.” But at the dark look Anya threw at her, Lexa held her hands up in resignation. “Fine.”

Anya glared for a moment longer, threatening Lexa to keep her word, but Lexa didn’t flinch. Anya might have looked tough and scary to the outside world, but she was a mush of feelings and caring underneath it all.

So Lexa just smiled and raised her drink. “Cheers.”

The clink of glasses signaled the start of their little festivities, and within an hour, Lexa’s cheeks warmed with the heat of alcohol and fond memories.

“Do you remember that Christmas a few years ago?” Lexa gasped, grasping Anya’s shoulder.

“You talking about the time Grams got tired of waiting around for you to not be a completely useless lesbian and decided to get you a date for her Christmas party herself?”

Lexa wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. “And she arranged that wild speed dating trap for me.”

“I can’t believe you fell for that. How long did it take you to realize the random errands weren’t actually errands but elaborately planned meet-cutes that everyone was in on except you?”

“Hey-” Lexa, bold from the alcohol, punched Anya in the shoulder. “I thought I was helping her. The party was that night. You remember how crazy she’d get, wanting to make everything perfect and magical. It is not my fault I was trying to be a good and helpful granddaughter.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Anya shook her head and laughed. “I just assumed you would’ve picked up on the fact that multiple women giving you their numbers in the span of two hours wasn’t normal.”

Lexa just raised her eyebrow.

“Oh, shut up,” Anya scoffed light-heartedly. “You are so not as irresistible as you think you are. You inherited way too much of Grams’s sentimentality to be some sort of player.”

Lexa’s heart panged, and she hid her smile behind another sip of her drink. It was true. She’d never been one to date around or pursue countless romantic encounters, even if they did occasionally fall into her lap. She supported her friends and even Anya when they jumped from person to person over the years, but it just wasn’t for her. 

She wanted that connection, that undeniable feeling of trust and comfort, and yeah, her Grams was the same way. Lexa used to love to hear her tell story after story about how she’d met their grandfather, how she’d known in a second that he was different, how she felt a sudden sense of familiarity. She wanted that. She wanted that inexplicable moment of knowing this one person was worth it all.

“Speaking of Grams’s desire for you to find someone…” Anya leaned over to dig her hand into her coat pocket.

“Grams’s ornament,” Lexa gasped.

Each band of tarnished silver, intricately designed in a beautiful pattern, shone in the dim light of the bar. Lexa reached out, and Anya placed the precious memory into her hand.

“Where did you get this?”

“Grams gave it to me last Christmas, just before I went home. She told me to give it to you when I thought you were ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Do you remember the story she’d tell?”

“Which one?” Lexa ran her thumb over the silver bauble, clutching it like a lifeline to her grandmother. “Grams told a lot of stories.”

“She did, didn’t she?” Anya smiled. She nudged Lexa’s shoulder. “But I’m talking about this, dummy.”

Lexa set the ornament on the bar, reminiscing about the past. “This was a magic ornament that would make the ones you loved most appear.”

“Grams would hold it tight and recite a spell every year before she’d hang it on the tree,” Anya nodded. “Then she’d smile in that beautiful way she always did because ‘it worked.’ And she’d hug each one of us. She was cheesy like that. Just like you.”

Anya brushed her fingers over the silver where it rested, reverential and sincere, and spoke with a calm and clear voice.

_“The secrets I hid in the night, reaching out through space and light,  
_ _Be they far or be they near, bring to me the ones I hold dear.  
_ _Winter spirit with your warmest bite, bless me with your kindest might,  
_ _The ones I love who feel the same, return to me from where you came.”_

Lexa glanced around the empty room, and Anya did the same. Not a soul appeared, save the bartender drying glasses at the end of the bar, but then again, three pm was a little early for most patrons. 

Anya shrugged, “Guess it doesn’t work.”

“Unless it did,” Lexa smirked. “Anya, do you hold me dear? Am I the one you love the most? Are you actually as sentimental and cheesy as Grams was?”

Anya whipped towards her, finger pointing threateningly at Lexa’s face. “If you don’t wipe those idiotic puppy eyes off your face, I’m going to-”

“Okay, okay,” Lexa surrendered with her hands held high and her laughter joyous. “I’ll stop teasing.” 

Anya took a steadying breath, and her features softened. “I’m going to miss her this year.”

“Me too.”

“Well-” Anya picked up the decoration and placed it in Lexa’s hand. “I should be getting back. The in-laws are expecting me for dinner.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?” Lexa asked as she pocketed the ornament.

“I’ve seen your place. You barely have enough room for you.” Anya slapped a bill large enough to cover their drinks and a generous tip on the bar, shaking her head as Lexa reached into her pocket. “My treat,” she dismissed Lexa’s offered cash. 

“You do remember that I own a house now, right?” Lexa shrugged on her coat and held the door open for Anya. The daylight, dimmed through the darkening clouds, was still bright enough to make her squint.

“Yes, I know you used your inheritance to buy a home. How responsible of you,” Anya sighed. “But the wife is coming down in a few days, and her parents ever so graciously offered up their guest room for us.”

Lexa suppressed her smile. Anya really was a softy for those she loved.

“You want to share a cab?” Anya offered.

Lexa shook her head. “My place is in the opposite direction, but it isn’t far. Just a ten-minute walk.”

“Okay,” Anya shrugged with impressive nonchalance. She called the cab company, and Lexa waited with her, enjoying a few more minutes of light teasing until the unmistakable golden yellow car turned the corner.

Lexa gave Anya a quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner, right?”

“Yes, Lexa. I’ll be at your place at six pm sharp. Try not to burn the ever-living shit out of whatever you have planned.”

Lexa sighed and, with formidable self-control, let the dig slide. “See you later, Anya,” she waved as her cousin slid into the backseat of the car.

She watched until the taxi turned out of sight before spinning on her heel and heading home. The sun peeked through the fluffy and darkening clouds that would undoubtedly bring snow that night, and Lexa tucked her hands in her pockets as a particularly blustery gust of wind swirled around her.

Her hand wrapped around the ornament.

She held it in front of her, admiring its timeless beauty. Her mind danced with visions of warmth and happiness as her family sat around the tree last year. Lexa snuggled close to her Grams, and Anya cuddled up with her wife.

The bittersweet memory pulled a deep sense of longing from her chest. She really missed Grams, but more than that, she wanted what Anya had. Someone to hold and share those warm moments with.

Lexa was well aware she was only twenty-six; she had her whole life ahead of her. There was no reason she should feel so envious of her cousin’s relationship, but it was the holidays and the holidays often brought up those feelings.

She ran her thumb over the silver decoration once more, whispering to herself out of the comfort of nostalgia, or perhaps it was the nagging possibility that this thing really was a magical ornament that could bring her to someone she could love.

_“The secrets I hid in the night, reaching out through space and light,  
_ _Be they far or be they near, bring to me the ones I hold dear._  
_Winter spirit with your warmest bite, bless me with your kindest might,  
_ _The ones I love who feel the same, return to me from when you came.”_

A mass of warmth, fluffy fabric, and blonde hair smashed into Lexa’s body. She flung her arms wildly, and gloved hands wrapped around her forearms, pulling her down. 

She landed with a gasp and thud, but the body beneath her absorbed most of the fall.

“I’m so sorry!” Lexa scrambled, desperate to remove her tangled limbs from this stranger below her. But in her haste, she lost her footing and face-planted onto the warm chest beneath her. “Oh, shit! I’m sorry.”

Lexa somehow managed to get her arms to listen to her frantic brain and planted her hands on the firm ground, pushing herself off her accidental tackle victim.

And her already flushed and embarrassed body heated further.

This woman was gorgeous. 

Her honey hair splayed across the rough concrete, and her sapphire eyes widened as her totally kissable lips curled into a smile.

“Lexa!” The woman sat up, forcing Lexa to do the same. She threw her arms around her neck, pulling her into the warmest hug Lexa had ever experienced.

Lexa sat there, enjoying the bizarre yet completely welcome feeling, and after a moment released this charming stranger and pulled them both to their feet.

The woman smiled big and bright, and a swirl of nerves and excitement erupted in Lexa’s belly. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?” Lexa asked.

The fascinating stranger narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as she studied Lexa. “I’m-”

“Mom! Are you okay?” a small voice called out as a tiny person sprinted around the corner. Her long dark hair flowed behind her and came to a crashing halt as she slammed into the stranger and wrapped her little arms around her waist. The little girl hugged the woman tight, gaping up at Lexa. “Momma?”

The woman knelt down, rubbing the kid’s shoulders. “Momma’s fine, sweetpea.”

She took her child’s hand and stood. She rubbed the back of her head, grimacing and suppressing what Lexa assumed was a gasp of pain. 

“Are you sure?” Lexa asked as she pulled her phone from her pocket. She pressed the menu button, ready to call for help. “That was a hard fall, and I’m afraid you took the brunt of it for us. Can I call an ambulance? A doctor?”

The stranger shook her head, glaring at Lexa’s phone. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay.” She glanced up, meeting Lexa’s eyes. She held her gaze for a long moment, and Lexa fought the urge to squirm under such intense scrutiny. But then she slammed her eyes closed and rubbed the back of her head once more. “Fuck, 2011,” the woman mumbled under her breath.

“It’s been a hell of a year, hasn’t it?” Lexa nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many natural disasters. At least it’s almost over. Only a few more weeks. But then we’ve got the whole 2012 apocalypse thing to deal with, so I’m not sure if that’s going to be much better.”

The woman stared, and Lexa’s cheeks just might as well have been tattooed red with how often she kept embarrassing herself in front of a pretty woman. 

“The Mayan calendar ends on December 21, 2012,” Lexa explained, wishing her verbal ramble would just stop, but apparently her pretty-woman-rattled brain was incapable of such a feat. “The Mayan god of creation and war is supposed to come to earth for some sort of event. The end of the world, so they say. I guess we’ll just have to live it up for the next year.”

The little girl looked up at Lexa, wide-eyed with alarm, and tugged on her mother’s hand without breaking her intense eye contact. “Momma?”

Lexa cringed, and if possible, her cheeks pinked further. She shook her head and cursed her very existence for frightening this kiddo.

“Hey, sweetpea,” the woman scooped her up and whispered into her ear. Within seconds, the little one smiled big and bright, nodding her head up and down with a devilish smile. They rubbed their noses together, and the stranger placed a kiss atop her forehead. The entire display was undeniably cute and wholesome, and Lexa’s heart squeezed from all the adorableness.

Not wanting to seem like a creepy and gawking weirdo, Lexa cleared her throat. “Anyway,” she smiled. “Are you sure I can’t call a doctor for you…”

“Clarke,” The stranger thankfully caught on. “I’m fine, thank you. And this little one is my daughter, Macie.”

“Hi,” Macie waved as Clarke balanced her on her hip. Her bright eyes twinkled with mirth, and Lexa smiled back.

“Hi, Macie. I’m-” Lexa stopped short. She stared at Clarke. “Wait, you called me Lexa. And hugged me. Have we met before?”

“Oh, um, yeah,” Clarke, for the first time, blushed. “We have, actually.”

Lexa hid her face behind her hands. “This is so embarrassing,” she mumbled as she sifted through memory after memory, frantic to place Clarke in her past. But she came up empty. “I can’t believe I don’t remember you,” she grumbled.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Lexa’s entire body flushed with the compliment. A few moments with this woman and she was a blushing and rambling mess. Was this what Grams was talking about when she’d tell Lexa about her grandfather? Was this that moment of knowing?

If there was even the slightest chance this woman was exactly what Lexa was hoping for, she could not miss her chance to get to know her. So Lexa took a deep and steadying breath and leapt towards what felt like the most sure yet gigantic leap of faith she’d ever encountered.

“I know this might sound weird considering I just tackled you and can’t seem to remember meeting you,” Lexa rambled in one breath. “But would you like to go grab a cup of coffee? You can remind me how we met, so I can feel like a fool for ever forgetting.” 

Lexa leaned in just a fraction closer. She dipped her eyes to meet bright gray ones. “And I happen to know there’s a cafe nearby that makes the best cup of hot chocolate in the city,” she smiled at Macie.

Macie gasped with glee, and she turned towards her mother so quick, Clarke had to readjust her hold to ensure the kiddo didn’t tumble to the ground. 

Lexa bit her lip to suppress her delighted chuckle because she could just make out Macie quietly begging Clarke to say yes. Clarke’s resulting look, that look of completely loving annoyance, told Lexa she’d won them over.

Clarke sighed and turned to Lexa with a soft and knowing smile. “Sure, why not?”

Even though Lexa knew she’d say yes, the verbal confirmation ignited a firecracker of happiness deep in her belly. She let the smile spread on her face, not a care in the world if Clarke could see it. Lexa didn’t want to hide it.

Clarke adjusted her hold on Macie and grinned. “Lead the way.”

As they walked side by side towards the coffee shop, the sun peeked from behind the clouds, and something caught its bright rays. It twinkled and sparkled against the gray sidewalk, and Lexa reached down to scoop it up. 

She smiled as she tucked her grandmother’s ornament into her coat pocket.


	2. Chapter 2

“So this is the second time I’ve tackled you on the street?” Lexa gaped at the smirking woman across from her. “You’re joking.”

Clarke hid her laugh behind a slow sip of her tea. “I’m not.”

A flush crept across Lexa’s face that she attempted, and most definitely failed, to hide behind her hands. “This is so embarrassing,” Lexa groaned.

“You are very clumsy.”

Lexa peeked from behind her fingers at an adorable smirking child.

“I’m clumsy too,” Macie shrugged. She lowered the much too large mug of hot chocolate to the table, still grinning like a menace, and Lexa had to stifle a chuckle. A perfect whipped cream mustache adorned the kiddo’s face. “Mom says it’s an earring,” Macie continued without a care in the world.

“Endearing,” Clarke corrected as she gently wiped away the mess from her daughter’s face.

“That’s what I said.”

“Of course you did, sweetpea,” Clarke smirked, and Lexa could not help the smile spreading across her face.

She caught Clarke’s eye, and something twinkled there—a sparkle of familiarity that sent a wave of warmth cascading throughout Lexa’s body. She shook her head, rambling her thoughts aloud. “I can’t believe I don’t remember bumping into you. I’m sure something so embarrassing would be burned in my brain for all eternity.”

“To be fair,” Clarke shrugged. “You were in a hurry.”

“When was this?”

“It’s been a while-” Clarke drummed her fingers on the side of her mug as she thought back. “A few years at least. But it was late December. I do remember that.”

The last couple of Decembers were busy. Grams liked to celebrate the holidays, including her annual Christmas Eve party, so if that was when she literally ran into Clarke, it’s not entirely surprising she didn’t remember her. Lexa was often found at the end of December dashing around the town, procuring appetizers from here, party favors from there, and with her desire to make her Grams as happy as possible, she had a one-track mind to get her errands done.

Still, Lexa cursed her stupid brain for not filing away the sight of this wonderful woman into the never-forget-this-moment section of her brain.

Lexa rested her chin on her hand as she stared into those bright eyes across from her. They were a stunning shade of blue right now, shining with the soft glow of the cozy outdoor fire pit beside them. The flames danced and crackled, and the light changed with their song. Lexa burned the image into her mind.

“I won’t forget this time,” Lexa promised herself more than Clarke, but Clarke smiled in return. It was big and bright, and Lexa couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever felt so comfortable around someone so quickly.

Lexa inched her hand across the table, hesitating. But it was Christmas time, and as her Grams would say, “You’ve got to trust in the spirit, dear.” So Lexa slid her fingers forward and took Clarke’s gloved hand. She squeezed, curling her hand around Clarke’s, and it just fit—like it remembered being there a thousand times before.

Her breath came out slow, the puffs of air swirling between them for a moment before disappearing. The gentle cadence and predictability of her deliberate breaths did little to calm her thumping heart.

A gentle gust of wind swirled around the outdoor patio, shifting the quiet murmur of patrons around them. People chatted and laughed, the espresso machine inside whistled and whirled as a young woman pushed open the door, but Lexa wasn’t bothered.

She sat there, entirely enthralled in the quiet moment, just holding the hand of a woman who looked at her like she knew her soul.

Macie giggled, pure and joyous, and both Lexa and Clarke turned their attention to the child.

Macie pawed at her nose. “It’s cold,” she sniggered once more as fluffy little snowflakes floated around her.

Clarke snatched her hand away from Lexa with lightning speed, and a wave of panic crashed down on Lexa’s chest.

“We should get going.” Clarke popped up from her chair and deposited her and Macie’s empty mugs into the bin by the door. She rushed back, adjusting Macie’s hat with the quick efficiency of repetition.

Macie stared at Lexa, wide-eyed, with a look as surprised as Lexa felt. “But Momma-”

Clarke knelt down and took Macie’s hands. “Macie, we need to go. It’s snowing, and we have a few things we need to do.”

With a grand sigh that lifted her tiny shoulders up and down, Macie resigned with a wistful, “Okay.”

Clarke pressed a kiss to the top of her head and stood, facing a confused yet still hopeful Lexa. “This has been nice,” she smiled. “Thanks for tackling me.”

Lexa chuckled and shook her head. “Thanks for breaking my fall.” She reached into her pocket, retrieving her wallet. “My cell is on there,” Lexa said as she handed Clarke her business card. “Just in case you want to grab another cup of coffee or something.”

Clarke bit her lip, suppressing a smile, and Lexa could not look away. It wouldn’t take much effort to just lean in and press a gentle kiss right there, right on the corner of those lips as they curled upwards. Clarke would taste like Christmas with the cinnamon and hint of ginger and cloves lingering from her chai latte.

As if Clarke could read her mind, she smirked at Lexa before releasing a sigh that sounded awful longing. And without another word, she spun on her heel to leave.

But before she could get two steps away, Macie turned around, and with the grace of an overexcited puppy, launched herself into Lexa’s arms.

The trust and warmth of this child surprised Lexa, but she dutifully wrapped herself around the little one and held on. Grams always told her, “when a child hugs you, dear, never be the first to let go. You don’t know how much they need it.” So Lexa embraced her, despite the wide eyes and clenched jaw of the kiddo’s mother two feet away.

“It’s okay,” Lexa mouthed silently to Clarke, who made to protest but caught herself.

Macie let go a moment later, and with a smile, waved goodbye and took her mother’s waiting hand.

Lexa stood there, watching the two walk away. Her heart caught in her throat as they were about to disappear around the corner, but at the last second, just before they stepped out of sight, Clarke turned.

She caught Lexa’s eye, and even from this distance, Lexa noticed the distinct twinkle there.

She raised a hand to wave, and Clarke smiled. They disappeared around the corner, but Lexa’s heart continued to thump wildly. Clarke had looked back.

*******

The trek home had been mercifully quick, the coffee shop excursion only adding a few minutes to her walk from the bar. She breathed a sigh of relief as she unlocked her front door and a waft of warm air swirled around her.

Outside, the snow was falling, slowly covering everything it landed on with a white blanket, but inside, the soft light of her Christmas tree bathed her home in golden warmth. Lexa kicked off her shoes and hung her coat, retrieving her grandmother’s ornament from her pocket.

She picked a small decoration-less spot on her tree and delicately placed the bauble on a branch. It spun this and that before settling itself in stillness. She stared at her tree, lost in that magical feeling it always created, but her stomach grumbled, alerting her to the fact that it was dinner time.

With a final glance at her lovely tree, Lexa made her way into the kitchen, cooking up a batch of her Grams’s spaghetti sauce that was way too big for just herself. Luckily, it froze beautifully.

Water at a rolling boil, Lexa held a handful of noodles over the pot, the perfect single serving size, when a knock on her door reverberated through the house.

Lexa turned her burner down, safety first, and made her way to the front, freezing as she swung open the door.

Clarke and Macie stood before her, pink-nosed and shivering in snow-dusted coats.

“Hi,” Clarke breathed.

“What are you doing here?” Lexa gaped.

Clarke bit her lip, frustrated, and rolled her eyes. “I’m so sorry for showing up unannounced, but-”

Macie’s chattering teeth were unmistakable, and before Clarke could finish her sentence, Lexa stepped to the side. “Come in, please.”

The two shuffled inside, the look of grateful relief hard to miss on Clarke’s face, but Lexa ignored it for a moment and knelt down to Macie’s level. She helped her out of her coat. “Do you like spaghetti?”

Macie glanced up at Clarke before muttering a sheepish, “It’s my favorite.”

“Mine too. Well,” Lexa stood, enunciating so Clarke could hear, but still addressing Macie. “It just so happens that I’ve made way too much. Think you could help me eat it?”

“Yes!” Macie bounced up and down.

After a quick glance to Clarke, who nodded in approval, Lexa smiled down at Macie. “Good. There are some Christmas books in the living room you can look at while I finish up. Okay?”

Without another word, Macie took off down the hallway, and the following thump informed Lexa she had plopped herself comfortably on the couch.

“Thank you,” Clarke whispered.

Lexa turned back towards her, offering her hands to help Clarke out of her coat. “She’s a good kid.”

“She is,” Clarke nodded. “She takes after her momma.”

“I can see that.”

Clarke’s eyes twinkled with gathering tears, and Lexa, unsure if the compliment was too much, switched topics in a flash. “Mind giving me a hand with the spaghetti?”

“Of course,” Clarke smiled.

Lexa led them to the open kitchen and busied herself with returning the water to a boil.

“Smells good.”

“Family recipe,” Lexa spoke over her shoulder as she added enough pasta for the three of them. “It’s a little unorthodox, but the secret ingredient is-”

“Old Bay.”

Lexa laughed as she turned to Clarke. “How did you know that?”

Clarke picked up the seasoning tin from the counter and turned it over in her hand. “Educated guess.”

And good gracious, the way Clarke was smiling and leaning her hip against the counter as Lexa stirred the pasta, the way she watched Lexa move as if it were the most exciting thing in the universe, it made Lexa’s heart swoop and still at the same time. Everything around her seemed breathtaking yet completely mundane, and she knew, right then, that, yes, this was her moment. She knew, just like her Grams did with her grandfather, that Clarke was the one who was worth it all.

But Clarke’s face suddenly fell, and her chest heaved with a stuttered inhale, breaking Lexa out of her reverie. “I’m sorry if we’re intruding. It was getting late and cold, and I only had a couple of hundreds in my pocket because we had just received some cash from my mom, who was apparently too important to be bothered to actually think about something her granddaughter might like for Christmas, and the hotel wouldn’t,” she rambled without taking a breath. “I promise we’ll be out of your hair tonight. I just need some time to think, and I didn’t know where else to go, and-”

“Clarke,” Lexa interrupted before she could spiral farther down. “I’m happy you’re here.”

Clarke’s sapphire eyes grew bluer, and tears pooled in the corners. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her sob. “I’m sorry,” she shook her head. “It’s been a weird day.”

Lexa dropped the wooden spoon to the resting plate and wrapped her arms around Clarke, pulling her close. Lexa expected Clarke to resist or perhaps tense up before allowing the comfort, but she did neither. Clarke melted into Lexa, entangling her arms around her and nuzzling into the crook of Lexa’s neck.

Lexa held her, content to provide whatever comfort Clarke needed. “I’ve got you,” she whispered into honey hair. “It’s okay. You just cry as much as you need to.”

To Lexa’s surprise, the sobbing woman she held transformed into a chuckling one.

“What?” Lexa laughed at the sudden shift in moods. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” Clarke shook her head as she gently removed herself from Lexa’s embrace. She wiped away the last errant tear and smiled, and despite her eyes being raw with red and her cheeks stained with tears, she was beautiful.

“It’s something,” Lexa insisted.

“You,” she took a deep breath. “You just remind me of someone.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“It’s a great thing.”

*******

Dinner went by without another hitch, Macie boldly demonstrating the proper way to eat spaghetti while Clarke both laughed and cringed at the mess she made as the sauce flew off her noodles when she slurped them up.

“Honestly, Macie,” Clarke sighed as she handed her daughter a napkin. “Who taught you that?”

“Auntie did,” Macie stated with the simple self-confidence children possessed. “She says it’s the only way to eat spaghetti.”

“Do you think we could eat it with a little less enthusiasm? Just for tonight. To save Lexa here from cleaning sauce off her ceiling for the next three months.”

“You know,” Lexa winked at Macie, twirling a hefty portion on her fork. “My cousin, who is occasionally wise—don’t tell her I said that—slurps her spaghetti too. Has since we were kids. She always tried to get me to do it.” Lexa took the big bite of food, being sure to devour it as messily as possible. “I never got the hang of it, though.”

It took every ounce of will power Lexa possessed not to grimace as the sauce flew everywhere, and even more fortitude not to immediately wipe it off, but Macie’s delighted squeal of laughter grew uncontrollably contagious, and soon enough, the three of them were giggling at Lexa’s spaghetti sauce-speckled face.

Until Clarke reached over the table, napkin in hand, and with a tenderness that stopped Lexa’s heart, wiped her face clean. Clarke’s hand paused midair, and before withdrawing, she leaned her weight on her elbow. Lexa tasted the rich and hearty aroma of tomatoes and garlic on Clarke’s breath as she inched closer and closer.

Lexa’s own breath caught in her throat. She ran her tongue across her lips, anticipating the soft brush of warm skin seconds away. Clarke was so close; the heat of her body warmed the minuscule air between them.

The sudden lack of light sprung them apart. The hum of Lexa’s refrigerator no longer filled the quiet house. Only the crackling of the logs in the fireplace and disappointed sigh escaping Lexa’s throat met their ears.

“Mom? Momma?” Macie whispered, a timber of fright trembling her little voice.

“It’s okay, sweetpea-” Clarke sprung up and lifted Macie to her hip. “Just a little power outage.”

Lexa pulled her blinds to the side, spying the dark street. “Looks like the whole neighborhood is out,” she sighed. “But I’ll be right back. I’m going to check the breakers just in case.”

While her heart ached with the missed kiss, Lexa gave Clarke a reassuring smile and Macie a comforting pat on the back. “There are more logs in the corner just there,” Lexa gestured to her living room. “And blankets in that chest against the wall if you want to snuggle up by the fireplace.”

Lexa snatched the flashlight off the bookshelf in the hallway and made her way to the garage to quickly discover that none of her circuit breakers tripped. Lexa snapped her breaker box closed, and when she turned, she ran face-first into a solid object.

Lexa let out an embarrassing yet completely warranted yelp of surprise as Clarke caught her before she could stumble backwards.

“We really should stop meeting like this,” Clarke chuckled.

Lexa grasped her chest, willing her frantic heart to return to normal. “I think that’s a good idea,” she managed to laugh. “Did you need something? Is Macie okay?”

“She’s fine,” Clarke assured her. “I just-” she worried her bottom lip, and when Lexa tore her gaze from that tempting gesture to meet her eyes, Clarke leaned in, grasping Lexa’s cheek.

It was just a soft brush of lips, tender yet sure, but it ignited a burning fire in the depths of Lexa’s belly. But before she could reach her own hand up, before she could pull her close and keep her there for another stolen second, Clarke backed away, her faint smile just noticeable in the darkness. She left Lexa standing there, heart pounding and soul singing, yearning for more.


	3. Chapter 3

Clarke kissed her. Clarke found her in the shadows, cupped her face, and kissed her.

And it felt good.

Not just good.

It was right.

At the risk of allowing her inner monologue to traverse into pure cheese land, that kiss was precisely what Lexa had been waiting for. She stopped breathing. Her heart skipped a beat. The entire world around them ceased to exist. The only thing that was real was Clarke and her and the way their lips brushed, tender and sweet. It lasted an eternity yet flickered in a flash.

And Lexa really needed to get a hold of herself.

She took a deep breath, composing her wildly erratic heart, and reached into her pocket. The brief phone call to the power company was enough to finally chill her mind enough to calmly leave the darkness of the garage.

In her brief absence, Clarke had made a perfect little snuggery in front of the fireplace. Macie curled up on some pillows snagged from her couch while Clarke ran her fingers through her long dark hair. 

“The power company says they know about the outage and should have it back up by morning,” Lexa said, and Clarke turned at the sound of her voice. She glanced over her shoulder, the warm light from the fireplace illuminating her silhouette. It made her look like something out of a renaissance painting, and Lexa’s heart skipped yet another beat.

“There’s room for you-” Clarke lifted Lexa’s fluffy purple blanket off the ground, offering her the spot right beside her. “If you’d like.”

Through the power of Christmas miracles, Lexa managed to slide under the nest of blankets without tripping or embarrassing herself in her excitement, but her blush wasn’t far behind. Clarke watched her, smirking as if she knew everything Lexa was thinking, and the twinkle in her eyes had Lexa’s cheeks pinking again.

“Macie’s out for the count,” Clarke whispered. “She looks so peaceful when she sleeps. Not a care in the world. Just so soft with nothing but her dreams.”

Lexa nodded in agreement as she watched the slow rise and fall of Macie’s chest. “She’s perfect.”

“You are very sweet.”

“It’s easy in present company.”

Clarke’s restrained and quiet laugh reverberated through Lexa’s entire body, and her skin trembled and sang as Clarke snuggled close. Lexa wrapped her arm around Clarke, holding her as she continued to stroke Macie’s hair in the quiet of the evening. 

The fire popped and crackled behind them, bathing her home with warmth and serenity, but with the dropping temperatures outside, she shivered. “We should bundle up for the night. Who knows how long the power will be out.”

Without waiting for Clarke to answer, Lexa popped to the window. The snow blanketed her entire backyard, and the fluffy white flakes continued to fall. She pulled the curtains shut, knowing every little thing she could do to insulate this room was necessary.

She turned to Clarke. “Would you feel comfortable borrowing some of my clothing? For layers?”

Clarke snickered, nodding her head. “Yeah, of course.”

“Good,” Lexa nodded. On her way to her bedroom, she filled a kettle with water and set it to boil on the stove, thanking her Grams for drilling into her that a gas stove was the only proper way to go.

While the water heated, Lexa shifted through her closet, grabbing the smallest hoodie she could find for Macie and intentionally choosing her favorite for Clarke. It was stupid, but she was anxious, in the best way, to see Clarke in her clothes.

The kettle was whistling by the time she handed Clarke the sweatshirts and beanies she found, so she left her to wake and dress Macie. Lexa smiled as she grabbed two mugs, watching a half-asleep Macie clumsily attempt to get her arms in the right places, but her smile turned to a grimace of annoyance when she reached for the box of tea.

Only peppermint remained. She really needed to stop buying variety packs and just get the kind she actually enjoyed. But it was cold, and the tea would warm her, so she sucked it up and brought the two steaming mugs over to the fireplace.

Macie was now spread across the little nest of pillows and blankets, head in Clarke’s lap, very much taking over the spot Lexa had previously occupied, and very much passed out.

Clarke shrugged and offered a silent apology, but Lexa just waved it off. She settled down, Macie now perfectly in between them, and handed Clarke the tea. She wrapped her hands around the mug, fluttering her eyes in pleasure as she inhaled the aroma.

“Mmm,” Clarke hummed. “I love peppermint tea. I’m surprised you have some.”

Lexa peeked over her own mug. “Why?”

“You don’t like peppermint.”

Lexa’s jaw fell agape. “How-”

“It’s Christmas time,” Clarke shrugged. She took a long and drawn out sip of tea. “It’s peppermint season, and I don’t see any telltale signs of it anywhere. No red and white colored candies in sight. Not even a single candy cane on the tree.”

Lexa laughed in disbelief. “You are awfully observant.”

“You’d be surprised at the number of random things mothers need to be aware of.” 

And Clarke was smirking in that way again. She was so relaxed and at ease, confident even, and the familiarity of it all filled Lexa’s heart.

“It’s weird,” Lexa sighed. “I’m so comfortable around you. It feels like I know you, but I know nothing about you.”

Clarke peered over the rim of her cup, her eyes open and curious, so Lexa continued.

“You are incredibly caring and sweet. You’re funny and smart. You love deeply, yet you’re protective of your heart. I know those things because you’ve shown me—the way you care for your daughter, the twinkle in your eyes, how you notice these little details, the way you kissed me. I know these big things, but I don’t know any of the little ones. I don’t even know your last name.”

Clarke bit her lip as if trying to keep her emotions at bay, but she failed. Her eyes sparkled once more, not with mirth but with tears. Her lip quivered with unsaid truths, and Lexa knew something was holding her back. “Do the little things really matter?”

Lexa turned up the corner of her lips, an attempt at a reassuring smile. “Not in the grand scheme of things,” she said. “I suppose the little things don’t really define you, but they sure do help paint a picture of who you are.”

Clarke inhaled slowly as she reached down to run her fingers through Macie’s hair once more. She kept her eyes locked on her child and spoke in an unhurried manner that suggested she was meticulously choosing her words. “My name is Clarke Griffin. I had Macie when I was twenty-nine. I am now thirty-three, and I achieved a lifelong goal of becoming a surgical PA three years ago.” 

Clarke smiled as she finished. “How’s that?”

“It’s a good start.”

“Lexa-” Clarke’s face twisted in pain. She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t think-” 

“I’m cold.” Macie’s tiny voice detonated in the room, halting their conversation in an instant.

“I got it.” Lexa turned and placed another log on the fire and popped up. She retrieved Macie’s coat from the stand in the hallway, grabbing Clarke’s and hers while she was at it.

Clarke wiggled Macie into her coat and settled her back under the blankets in record time. Lexa held out Clarke’s for her.

“Thanks,” Clarke smiled. She whipped her coat over her shoulders, and as she did, something fell from her pocket. 

Lexa reached down and picked up the piece of fabric. It looked like a surgical mask. She handed it back to Clarke. “This fell from your pocket.”

“Oh,” Clarke stuffed it back into her coat. “Thanks.”

Jacket on, Lexa slid back under the pile of blankets. “I didn’t know they made cloth ones.”

Clarke nodded and averted her gaze. “Yeah, just trying to reduce our waste, you know? Global warming and all that.”

“Beautiful, smart, and environmentally conscious. The whole package.”

Clarke did little to hide the smirk on her face, and Lexa, bold from the rush of a good compliment well delivered, leaned forward. The kiss was quick and very chaste, Macie was asleep just between them, but it was perfect.

“I don’t know if I believe in magic, but it sure does feel like magic brought you here.”

Clarke chuckled and shook her head but didn’t say a word. She slipped down, burrowing beneath the blankets.

“Goodnight, Lexa.”

Lexa settled down and smiled as Macie snuggled between them. Despite the chilling air around them, this was warm and perfect, and Lexa never felt luckier. “Goodnight, Clarke.”

*******

Soft puffs of warm breath woke her. Lexa flickered her eyes open and was met with a miniature nose inches from hers.

Macie.

Her tiny fingers curled around Lexa’s hair as her chest rose and fell with a slow cadence. 

Lexa’s muscles went rigid. The child was so close, so comfortable, and it was definitely not a position she imagined herself in. But the surprise quickly fell as she studied this miniature person sleeping next to her.

Tiny freckles dotted her nose, and her long, dark lashes fluttered as she dreamed about something. Lexa wondered what a four-year-old dreamt about. Christmas elves working away on presents for good children worldwide perhaps, or maybe reindeer frolicking in the snow, gearing up for their epic Christmas Eve run.

Whatever the case was, Lexa found herself wanting to be closer. She draped her arm, slowly, delicately for fear of waking the child, around Macie. Lexa froze as she stirred in her sleep, but Macie just snuggled closer, drawn in by Lexa’s warm embrace, and nestled herself atop Lexa’s chest.

Lexa’s heart thumped wildly underneath the child. Was it possible to fall in love with a kid so quickly? She’d known Macie for less than twenty-four hours, but here she was, willingly cradling the girl as she slept. But maybe it was entirely possible. Didn’t children have this innate intuition about people? They knew when to hide behind their parents and when it felt right to be friendly. Maybe Macie’s comfort around Lexa lowered her own walls faster than ever before.

And that was wholly terrifying.

She wanted mornings like this. Quiet ones spent snuggling lazily in a nest of blankets and pillows with a family. Her family.

The lump beside her stirred, shifting blankets around until bright, panicked blue eyes met hers.

“Good morning,” Lexa whispered before Clarke could freak out about Macie’s position.

Clarke glanced at Macie, still snoozing away atop Lexa’s chest, before meeting Lexa’s eyes. “Morning,” her voice was scratchy with sleep, and the rough timber of it was entirely unexpected and a whole lot of attractive. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” Lexa smiled, pushing down all lustful thoughts. “Looks like I’m a good pillow.” 

“She’s always preferred to sleep close to someone. Even when she was a newborn, I never could get her to sleep in anything but someone’s arms.”

“A real snuggle bunny.”

Clarke’s smile was tender in the soft morning light. “She really is.”

“Who is?”

“Hey, Macie.” Clarke sat up quick as a flash and scooped the now awake child off Lexa’s chest. “How’re you this morning?”

The sudden lack of slight weight and warmth pulled an unexpected bump of melancholy from deep within Lexa, and she hid it by crossing her arms over her chest and staring at the bookshelf across the room. The clock on the middle shelf blinked back at her. 

The power was back on.

“Can we have pancakes?” A tiny voice pulled Lexa’s attention from the clock.

“Oh, sweetpea, I don’t know if we-”

“Pancakes are a great idea,” Lexa said. She stood and caught Clarke’s eye. “If you’re up for them, of course. The power’s back on, and I do have everything we’d need to make them.” 

Clarke tilted her head to the side as if gauging whether Lexa was sincere, so Lexa kept her small smile firmly in place.

“Okay,” Clarke resigned. “Pancakes it is.”

After setting Macie up with a Christmas edition of _Where’s Waldo_ , Lexa led Clarke to the kitchen. They worked flawlessly together. Lexa never had to ask for a whisk or a measuring cup. When she’d turn around, there Clarke was, smile on her lips and tool in hand. It took every ounce of will to not drop what Lexa was doing and kiss Clarke senseless.

But there was a hungry kiddo in her living room, who could see their every move, and there was, of course, Clarke’s hesitation. Something weighed down on her. Lexa wasn’t blind to that fact, and she was more than happy to let Clarke lead when she was ready.

Lexa flipped the final pancake onto the serving tray and set the tall stack of pancakes on the kitchen table. “Clarke, could you grab the-”

“Mom! Mom! Look what I found!”

Lexa turned in time to see a flash of dark hair bound past her, and grasped in one of Macie’s tiny fists, was a silver ornament.

With an instinctive bout of protectiveness, Lexa snatched the bauble from the kiddo’s hand. “Did you take this off the tree?” she accused a little too harshly.

Macie’s eyes welled with tears, and Lexa’s stomach tightened with remorse.

“Macie,” Clarke spoke before Lexa could apologize. “You know not to touch things that don’t belong to you.” 

“It’s okay,” Lexa composed herself and knelt down to Macie’s level. She held out the ornament, keeping a calm smile on her lips. “It’s very sturdy. But you do have to be careful with it. It’s a magic ornament.”

Macie’s eyes grew about three sizes, and the small gasp that left her chest was impossible not to smile at. “Magic?” she marveled.

“Yes,” Lexa nodded as Macie stared wonders at the silver bauble. “It brings the people you love close.”

As Lexa spoke the words, a nagging thought pushed to the front of her mind. She’d met Clarke and Macie moments after saying that silly spell. She’d run right into Clarke. But it was just a coincidence. Grams was a sentimental and lovely woman, but she didn’t possess real magic. She couldn’t have. Could she?

“May I see it?”

Lexa snapped out of her absurd thought spiral and handed the ornament to Clarke. Clarke brought it close, running her fingers along every inch of the decoration.

“Careful, Mom,” Macie warned. “You don’t want the magic to accidentally explode.”

“Yeah,” Lexa stifled her laugh. “We definitely don’t want that. But-” she patted Macie’s shoulder. “I think we’re safe. You need to say a spell for it to work.”

“Oh!” Macie exclaimed. “A spell.”

As Lexa opened her mouth to recite it for the adorably excited child, a knock reverberated through her home.

Lexa unlocked her front door, wondering aloud who would be crazy enough to be out so early the morning after a snowstorm.

“What’re you doing here?” Lexa gaped as Anya pushed through her front door, shaking off her coat and hanging it up like she owned the place.

“They kept asking me about when we were going to give them grandbabies, and you know how I feel about that. It’s our business, not theirs. I’d politely dodged the question as long as I could, but I had enough. I made up some excuse about you feeling sad and lonely, so here I am. You’re welcome.”

A tiny body crashed into Anya, arms wrapping around her waist.

Anya patted the mess of dark hair and gave Lexa a look that she reserved for those she wanted to curse to hell itself.

But Clarke swooped in before Lexa could, extracting her daughter from Anya’s frame. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized to Anya before whispering something to Macie.

“Who the hell are you?” Anya glared at Clarke.

“This is Clarke,” Lexa stepped forward, standing alongside Clarke. “And her daughter, Macie. Macie, Clarke, this is my cousin, Anya.”

“Nice to meet you,” Clarke adjusted Macie on her hip as she shook Anya’s hand. “I’m sorry about this one. She’s very friendly.”

Anya waved her apology off. “Kids love me.”

Lexa’s eyebrows shot to her hairline in disbelief, but Anya just rolled her eyes and gestured to the office. Lexa followed her, and as soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Anya whirled on her. Her eyes twinkled with mirth. “You said the spell, didn’t you?”

“What?”

“You did it,” Anya laughed, punching Lexa in the shoulder. “You actually did it. I honestly didn’t think you would.”

“I-”

A knock interrupted Lexa, and Clarke cracked the door open. “Sorry to interrupt, but Macie is on the verge of severe hangriness, and trust me, no one wants to endure that. Mind if I let her eat?”

“Of course,” Lexa smiled. “Anya, want some pancakes?”

“Grams’s recipe?”

“Yeah.”

“The buttermilk one?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you burn them?”

“No.”

“I’m in.”

*******

Breakfast was wonderful. Anya grilled Lexa about meeting Clarke, wickedly smiling over every detail, and of course, teasing relentlessly about the way she literally crashed into her. They laughed and smiled, and Anya even offered to clean the kitchen. Which was strange, Anya hated physical labor, but when she convinced little Macie to help, Lexa couldn’t turn down the opportunity to spend a little one-on-one time with Clarke.

They headed into the living room, smirking at one another and laughing as Macie “accidentally” dropped a plate into the water, soaking Anya’s shirt. Moving as one, Lexa and Clarke began to tidy up their nest from the night before.

And Lexa couldn’t help but notice the way Clarke watched her every movement.

“You look at me like you know all my secrets,” Lexa said, folding another fluffy blanket. “It’s like you can see through my soul. It’s scary.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke grimaced.

Lexa shook her head. “Don’t be. It’s intense, sure. But it’s comforting. It’s…” she paused, trying to work out what she was feeling. Having someone know her, truly know her inside and out, no games, no worrying if they understood, it was-

“Freeing,” Lexa smiled.

Clarke glanced down, hiding her blush that Lexa definitely saw, and shook another blanket out. A soft clink caught Lexa’s attention, and she bent over, retrieving the fallen item.

Pinched between her fingers, glimmering in the bright beam of morning sunlight, was a beautiful and perfect diamond ring.

“Is this a wedding ring?” she murmured.

Clarke’s gasp caught Lexa by surprise, and when she snatched it away, Lexa’s stomach dropped. 

Her throat went dry. “Are you married?”

Clarke lunged forward, grasping Lexa’s hands. “Lexa-”

Lexa moved away, her eyes prickling with fiery tears. She was so stupid. “Of course you’re married,” she shook her head. Her skin warmed, and she wasn’t sure if the anger was more directed at herself for her mistake or Clarke for deceiving her. “I’m so stupid. You have Macie, and you’re just… you. Of course, someone else saw that. I didn’t even ask. I’m so stupid. I didn’t even ask.”

“Lexa-” Clarke grabbed onto her shoulders, keeping Lexa still. “It must’ve fallen out of my pocket last night. But it’s not what you think.”

“You’re not married?” Lexa bit out, louder than she anticipated.

“Well, I am, but-”

“Mom? Momma?”

Lexa buried her face in her hands as Macie and Anya stood behind them, Macie’s frantic eyes darting from Clarke to Lexa. She reached for the hem of Anya’s shirt. “Is Momma okay?”

“Momma?” Anya whispered under her breath. She glared at Macie, and her eyes went wide as saucers as she gasped. “Oh, shit.”

In a flash, Anya snatched Grams’s ornament from the Christmas tree and bounded towards Lexa. Lexa took a step back, separating herself from Clarke and retreating from Anya’s insane approach.

“Lexa,” Anya shoved the ornament towards her. “You said the spell. How did you say the spell?”

“What?” She was in no mood for this right now. Her heart had just shattered into a thousand pieces. She didn’t need some weird accusations thrust at her. “Anya-” Lexa pushed her hand away. “Get out of my face.”

But Anya stood her ground. “Tell me exactly what happened when you walked home from the bar yesterday.”

“I already-”

“Every detail.”

Lexa’s jaw set hard, and she crossed her arms over her chest. This was ridiculous. But Anya remained steadfast, and while her cousin could be incredibly annoying, she wasn’t one for nonsense. There must be something important she was looking for.

So despite Lexa’s barrel of emotions, she took a deep breath and recalled yesterday afternoon. “I took the ornament out of my pocket. I was staring at it and thinking about last Christmas, how I wanted what you had with your wife. I said the spell, and then I ran into Clarke.”

As she said her name aloud, Lexa glanced over at Clarke. She looked as heartbroken as Lexa felt.

“But what did you say?” Anya demanded.

“I said the damn spell. The same one you said in the bar,” Lexa sighed.

“Say it again.”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes and sped through the words in a single breath. “ _The secrets I hid in the night, reaching out through space and light,_ _be they far or be they near, bring to me the ones I hold dear._ _Winter spirit with your warmest bite, bless me with your kindest might, the ones I love who feel the same, return to me from when you came.”_

Anya squeezed her eyes shut. Her lips pressed together in a tight line, and she exhaled, slow, and forceful through her nose. “Dammit, Lexa.”

_“_ What?” Lexa demanded, irritated, and overwhelmed by pretty much everything. “It’s not like it’s a real spell.”

“It is real, you dummy,” Anya half-laughed. “It was supposed to be Grams’s last gift to you—helping you meet a woman you could fall in love with. But somehow, you managed to mess it up.”

Lexa swallowed down the lump forming in her throat. She glanced at the two other people in the room. Clarke had scooped up Macie, balancing her on her hip, and every ounce of affection came crashing back on Lexa. 

If the ornament was really magical, she hadn’t messed it up. She could fall in love with Clarke; she was pretty sure she already was. And Macie. She longed to give Macie the world. She could love these two. Easily. It worked. The magic worked just as it was supposed to. The proof was standing right in front of her.

“What are you talking about?” Lexa shook her head at Anya. “This may be messed up, but I didn’t mess it up.”

Anya leveled Lexa with an irritated glare. She walked over to Clarke and gestured towards the child in her arms. She held her hands up in that ‘hello, it’s right in front of you’ kind of way, but Lexa shrugged, annoyed, and just in want of answers.

Anya threw her hands in the air, shaking her head. “It’s _where_ , Lexa. Not _when_. You said the wrong word in the spell.” She scoffed and then broke into a fit of laughter. “You brought them to you from the damn future.”


	4. Chapter 4

It was a lot to process.

The ornament was magical; her Grams wanted her to use it to find love; she messed up one damn word; Macie and Clarke were time-travelers.

Lexa stared at Clarke, who just sheepishly smiled back.

“It’s true?” Lexa breathed.

Clarke nodded, and her throat bobbed up and down. “I don’t know much about the magical ornament from your Grams, but yeah, basically.”

“You’re from the future.”

“Yes.”

Lexa dragged her hands down her face. It was true. Clarke and Macie were from the future. Her future. And holy shit, she should’ve seen this coming.

Clarke knew so many little things about her. She knew about Grams’s secret spaghetti ingredient, about her dislike of peppermint, hell, Clarke even knew where she lived. 

“I think you two need to talk this one out a bit,” Anya nodded. She held out her arms, and Clarke smiled as she handed over Macie. The two disappeared into the guest bedroom, and Lexa stared back at Clarke.

“So you’re married to-”

“You,” Clarke smirked.

“And Macie-”

“Is ours.”

“Oh,” Lexa’s knees wobbled. Tears prickled the corners of her eyes. They were hers. Her family. Her future family. “This is a lot.”

Clarke crashed into her, wrapping her arms around Lexa’s frame. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Clarke lamented as she guided Lexa to the couch. “I just don’t know how much you should know, you know?”

Lexa laughed at the inarticulate string of words, grateful for the levity. Clarke chuckled back, nudging her shoulder. “I didn’t want to alter our timeline. I don’t want things to change.”

And Lexa understood. The very idea of time travel was wild and absurd, yet she was sitting next to her future wife. There was so much she didn’t know and honestly couldn’t even begin to comprehend. But she did know one thing.

“We have to get you two back.”

Clarke nodded. “I know. After the coffee shop yesterday, we went to the library.”

“Why?”

“I looked up everything I could think of that could help me get back.”

“Did you find anything?”

Clarke sighed. She took the ornament Lexa still held. “I didn’t know about this.” 

Very gently, as if she was afraid of what might happen if it rolled to the floor, Clarke placed it in the middle of Lexa’s coffee table. “Yesterday, in my present, was the first time I saw it. You brought it out from a box I’d never seen and handed it to Macie. We were about to leave the house, jackets on and everything, and you just handed it to her. Then you hugged me and whispered 2011 into my ear. You were acting so strangely, and I thought it had something to do with that ornament, so I reached down to see it. When I touched it-”

“You were here.”

“Yeah,” Clarke laughed. “And you ran into me. You looked like you but younger, and you didn’t know who I was. And your phone!” Clarke laughed harder. “When I saw your phone, 2011 made sense. You had told me when we were.” 

Clarke composed herself and stared at the decoration glittering on the table. “I didn’t realize that ornament was the reason we were here. It was just a family heirloom you found. But then Macie found it again, and you said it was magic. Which a few days ago, I’d have never believed, but now? Well…” Clarke chuckled again, gesturing everywhere. 

Lexa joined in because, yeah, it was that right brand of absurdly entertaining. 

Their giggles grew louder and more erratic until they were full-on cackling at the turn of events. But reality had a pesky way of crashing down, so when their bout of laughter crawled to a stop, Lexa sighed.

“If that ornament brought you here, it can send you back.”

“Maybe,” Clarke shrugged.

“We can do this,” Lexa nodded, and a wave of confidence washed over her. She stood, offering her hand to Clarke. Clarke grinned as their fingers intertwined, and Lexa lifted her up. “We can totally do this.”

“Anya!” Lexa called, still holding Clarke’s hand.

“Shouting isn’t necessary,” Anya sighed as she walked into the living room. “Let me guess: you need to set the timeline right.”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded once.

“And send them back to their present.”

“Yeah.”

“And you need me to help.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“Pretty much, yeah.” 

“Okay,” Anya threw herself on the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table and folding her hands behind her head. “Let’s figure this out.”

“Yes, do make yourself at home first,” Lexa glowered. “It’s not like my future depends on us figuring out magic I wasn’t even sure existed until ten minutes ago.”

“I do my best thinking while relaxed. A busy mind is a chaotic one,” Anya raised an eyebrow. “If you lightened up once in a while, you might find yourself as successful as I am.”

“Hey, I’m-”

“Couldn’t we just alter the spell a little bit?”

Lexa and Anya’s petty argument stopped in an instant, and they turned towards Clarke, mouths agape.

Clarke shrugged. “If Lexa just changed one word and brought us here, couldn’t we change a few more and send us back?”

Anya popped up from the couch in a flash and punched Lexa in the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.

“Ow!” Lexa rubbed the sore spot on her arm. “What was that for?”

“She’s too smart for you,” Anya winked.

*******

Lexa stood to the side, memorizing every detail of the mundane act in front of her. Clarke hunched over their daughter and zipped up her coat. She set the winter hat down on her dark hair, laughing as the beanie dipped too far and covered most of Macie’s face. Macie pushed the hat back up, cheeks pink from laughter.

“You ready to go home?” Anya squatted down next to Macie, needlessly adjusting the scarf around her neck.

Macie nodded quickly. “I won’t miss you, though.”

Lexa snorted at the kiddo’s honesty, ignoring the death glare Anya threw her way. Macie, without missing a beat, continued, “We were on our way to see you, Auntie, so I won’t have time to miss you. But I did miss you for a long time because-”

Clarke grabbed Macie’s hand, halting her confession. “We can’t tell them about our time, sweetpea, remember?”

“Oh, right,” Macie smirked as she threw herself at Anya, hugging her deeply. “Our secrets.”

When Anya finished her goodbye, Lexa scooped the little girl into her arms, and without prompt, Macie snuggled into her neck. “I love you, Momma.”

A lump caught in Lexa’s throat. 

_Momma_.

She was going to be this little one’s momma someday.

“I-” Lexa swallowed. “I love you too.” She gave her daughter one more squeeze and set her down. “I’ll see you soon, kiddo.”

Lexa rose to meet Clarke, who was just shrugging on her coat. She reached into her jacket pocket, smirking as she slipped the diamond ring back on her finger.

“This is it,” Clarke sighed. “If it works.”

“It will work,” Lexa assured her. 

Clarke bit her lip. “It’s not fair,” she whispered, her voice laced with heartache. “I get to go back to you.”

But Lexa wouldn’t. She had to let the loves of her life go. She had to wait.

Clarke lunged forward, pulling Lexa into a fierce hug. “Promise me something,” she whispered into her ear. “Promise me you will live, Lexa. Live, and before you know it, we’ll meet. We’ll share the life we’re meant to share.”

Lexa hid a single tear in honey hair. “I’ll do my best.”

Clarke released her, lingering a moment before pressing a light kiss to her lips. “I’ll love you,” Clarke wiped a tear from her cheek. “I can promise you that.”

Lexa held her eyes, determined to never forget this particular shade of blue, for she had no idea when she’d see it again.

“Ready?” Anya placed her hand on Lexa’s shoulder.

“No, not really,” Lexa sighed. But she gave Macie and Clarke a reassuring smile and grabbed the ornament from the table.

Lexa held it in her hand, firm and sure, and Clarke lifted Macie onto her hip. Macie placed her little hand on top of the bauble, her mittened fingers brushing Lexa’s. She held Clarke’s gaze and spoke.

_“The secrets traveled through the night, reaching out through space and light,  
_ _They lived far and brought oh-so near, send back to me the ones I hold dear._  
_Winter spirit, with your faithful power, take them to their rightful hour,  
_ _The ones I’ll love who will feel the same, return them from when they came.”_

And just like magic, they were gone.

Lexa stared at the ornament in her hand.

“You know you can’t use it anymore,” Anya wrapped her arm around Lexa, holding her close. “You could snap that future from its very existence if you tried to mess with it.”

“I know,” Lexa nodded as she hung the ornament on a sturdy branch.

*******

The eggnog was perfect, rich and creamy, and thanks to Anya, it was also perfectly spiced. Lexa took another appreciative sip.

“Lexa, dear, this is for you.”

“Oh,” Lexa accepted the offered gift from Anya’s mother-in-law. “Thanks.”

“It’s from me,” Anya smirked as she plopped down next to her. “Open it.”

Lexa sat her glass on the table and ripped through the decorative paper. She turned the substantial frame over in her hand and gasped.

There, shining in full 16x20 glory, was a black and white photo of Grams and a small child hanging an ornament on a Christmas tree. _The_ ornament. Lexa traced the child with her fingers, tears swelling in her eyes. Familiar dark hair, bright twinkling eyes. It was her. And while the photo itself was enough to make her cry on this first Christmas without her Grams, another detail pulled at her heartstrings. 

That kid in the photo—Macie was the spitting image of that kid. And Lexa chuckled at herself for missing it.

Lexa threw her arms around Anya. “Thank you.”

“I can be nice sometimes,” Anya whispered to her. “But don’t get used to it.”

The rest of the afternoon passed by in a breeze. Lexa laughed and smiled with her cousin’s family, and it wasn’t a show, but her joy for the holiday wasn’t as bright as it once was. When the sun had set, and the family gathered around the piano to sing carols, Lexa politely excused herself. 

Anya walked her to the door. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Lexa breathed as she hugged Anya goodbye. “This was really nice. You’re lucky, you know that?”

Anya glanced behind her, smiling as her wife belted _Jingle Bells_ with their nephews. “I know. And you are too.”

Lexa sighed and clutched her framed photo to her chest. “I will be.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay longer?”

“I’m kind of tired.”

“Merry Christmas, Lexa.”

“Merry Christmas,” Lexa waved.

It took a few minutes for her car to warm, but soon enough, she was on her way home. The roads had been cleared the day before, and Lexa found herself enjoying the quiet and beauty of the night. There were few cars to contend with, everyone enjoying time with their loved ones, and Lexa’s mind wandered.

It had only been three days since she’d sent Clarke and Macie back, and those three days felt like a lifetime. Getting a taste of her future was both kind and cruel. She knew what she’d have one day, two rays of sunshine, right there, in a future so near yet so far away. It wasn’t fair. 

She turned down another street, mindlessly following the path that she knew would lead her home, when a glowing sign caught her attention. 

The coffee shop.

Lexa pulled into an empty spot, briefly wondering why they were even open on Christmas, and strolled up to the counter. She ordered a chai latte, both cursing and praising herself for it. The smell reminded her of Clarke.

It was a bittersweet realization but a necessary one. Anya was right. She was lucky. She was going to have a wonderful life. Who cared how long it’d take to get there? The fact of the matter was that it was there. It was going to be hers.

Lexa dropped a big ass tip in the jar on the counter, thanking the barista enthusiastically, and took a sip. 

She remembered the promise she’d made to Clarke. She would live her life. She wouldn’t dwell on what she didn’t have right now. It was the least she could do for her future wife.

So with a much happier disposition than ten minutes ago and a quick pep in her step, Lexa headed back to her car.

And promptly slipped on a patch of ice.

Her tea went flying, her arms flailed wildly, and sure hands wrapped around her forearms.

But it was no use. 

And her would-be-rescuer tumbled to the concrete, breaking her fall.

“I’m so sorry,” Lexa grunted as she pushed herself off the stranger. She stood, dusting off her coat. “I was rushing to my car, and I can be so clumsy sometim-”

The word died in her throat.

The woman in front of her stared back, and she was just as beautiful as Lexa knew she’d be. Her face was smoother, lacking a few laugh lines around her sapphire eyes. Her hair was longer but the same golden honey. She was wearing scrubs beneath her long winter coat, and a badge hung loosely around her neck.

“Clarke!”

Lexa threw her arms around her, hugging her fiercely, and as she embraced her, she erupted in a fit of giggles. This was the second time she tackled Clarke to the ground.

The woman in her arms patted her back awkwardly, and Lexa had enough sense to apologetically step away.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke tilted her head, staring at Lexa and smiling softly. “Do I know you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many many thanks to my friend and beta, @slythleo, who never ceases to just generally be one the most supportive and awesome people on the planet.
> 
> Merry Clexmas, y'all!!!


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